Soul Refrain
by Raz
Summary: Tsu/His post-Kyoto. Tsuzuki's past may hold the key to a recent spate of child disappearances, but will his sanity bear the strain?
1. Butterfly

Soul Refrain 

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Before I start this story a few words of explanation. Each part will revolve around a specific song – or rather its lyrics. They may refer to a character or some particular event, but I promise there is an overall story arc. This initial idea was inspired by listening to a succession of songs, originally intended for a one-shot, but my imagination went into overdrive and came up with something a little different. I will be using both the anime and manga as background sources as well as completely making stuff up about Tsuzuki and certain events in his past. Sorry to all purists, but this is never going to work otherwise. You may recognise the songs, you may not; download them, get hold of them and listen to them if you want, but as I said, it's primarily the lyrics I was after. The songs themselves vary extensively in theme and genre – I am very eclectic in my tastes. None of the songs used belong to me and neither do the Yami no Matsuei characters themselves: I am using all without permission and purely for my own personal amusement. As always, comments and constructive criticisms are welcomed and for a final warning: here be yaoi so homophobes are advised to go no further. If boy/boy relationships don't appeal, don't read because if you have a problem with it, I don't want to hear it.

**1. Butterfly**

It began with a heartbeat, the underpinning rhythm of life. With awareness, some would assert that the distinctive baseline became lost in the cacophony of noise that surrounds the senses. Footfalls, the rustle of fabric to indicate the movement of the limbs beneath the material, even those involuntary sighs and other assorted exhalations; they all combined to form a unique symphony. The essence of humanity.

To all intents and purposes the man lying in the hospital bed was just one more example of humanity. The steady thump of his pulse and the slow rise and fall of his chest to indicate breathing. What small movements he made were the softest whispers amongst the sheets; yet the sounds offered him no comfort, no reassurance. Instead, the man retreated far inside himself in an effort to block the noise from his awareness.

_/What am I? – I wish I was a butterfly-_

_I'd fly and fly until it was my time to die-_

_It's creeping in again – I know what I really am-_

_No more pretty, purple, peaceful butterfly-/_

His unwavering gaze vacantly fixed on the high window through which the sunlight streamed in warming rays. Against the glass pane fluttered the delicate wings of butterflies. They flitted and bumped against the invisible barrier; unable to understand why their further access was denied. He watched their wavering dance silently, until he could hide away inside himself no longer and once again picked up the knife to hack and slash at his wrists. Then he would watch the steady pulse of crimson life as it ebbed from his veins, hoping, praying that this time the infernal pounding of his heart would cease.

/_Simple life … if I were a butterfly-_

_I'd fly and fly until it was my time to die-_

_It's creeping in again – I know what I really am-_

_No more pretty, purple, peaceful butterfly-/_

Doctors monitored his condition: fascinated at the way his body would heal itself time after time without food or drink taken to sustain it. In the beginning, when he was first admitted, they would talk to him in an effort to rouse him into a state where he could communicate to them. When they discovered that awareness brought only another suicide attempt, they left him alone and instead tried to locate friends and relatives. They hoped that someone would be able to explain what broke this man's mind to such an extent. What they found was not what they had expected.

Finally able to trace the man's origins to a sufficiently accurate point, a member of the hospital staff remarked that the location in question was extremely near to a distant relative of his. Duly dispatched on a visit, the hospital worker returned vastly ahead of schedule and quite clearly in a state of extreme distress. Rather than alleviate the mystery, this visit had only intensified it.

Where there had once been a small, but thriving community there was now only a scene of complete devastation. So comprehensive was the damage that the cause of the destruction was a mystery. An earthquake, a fire, an explosion; all were discussed as possibilities but it was impossible to work out anything from the charred ruins. In addition was one extra piece to the puzzle; a disaster on the scale of the one that had occurred in this community should have left a mass of dead and injured. Yet a search of hospitals revealed not one admission and no bodies were found. To all intents and purposes, the inhabitants had simply vanished into thin air; the only remains of their lives a heap of scorched timbers and a silent man in a hospital bed who continually tried to die.

/_Come see the blood that's in my bed-_

_Come hear the things that nobody talks about-_

_Shut up your mouth – shame on you – shame on me-_/

At first the mysterious circumstances surrounding the beautiful man caused endless speculation and entertainment amongst the staff, who competed with each other to concoct the most elaborate scenarios. As the years passed, however, and the man continued to survive against all reasoning, the tales began to take on a darker cast. People began to remark on the patient's unearthly beauty and would talk of demons in hushed voices.

The man eventually attracted the attention of the government, curious about both the medical phenomenon and the story that was rapidly developing behind it. He was moved to another hospital, one where the patient's condition could be monitored more thoroughly.  The new doctor in charge of his case was fascinated by the man who seemed able to survive despite his refusal to either eat, drink or sleep. The doctor made copious notes about his new charge, fuelled by the mystery his patient presented. Unlike the previous hospital, he had no way of knowing anything about the man's background and home. This lack of information didn't concern the doctor, however, he was more than kept occupied by the enigma of a man who, to all intents and purposes, couldn't die. 

/_Look at me, I wish I was a honey bee-_

_I'd be anything, anything other than the things I have been-_

_I slip out if my skin so I don't have to do it again-_

_But just a passing thought and your filth is seeping in-_/

Gradually even the inhuman endurance of the patient's body began to show signs of strain. He was slower to heal from his self-inflicted injuries and less likely to rouse himself to a state where he could attempt to take his life once more. The patient's doctor saw no other course of action than to let the man get on with it. Although understandably concerned about losing such a valuable medical case, the patient's psyche simply wouldn't ever stand up to allowing the man to rejoin the real world. Should he ever regain full use of his faculties, the doctor was under no illusions that the patient would attempt anything other than suicide.

It was a balmy summer evening and the doctor was sitting outside in the shade. As he looked over his notes once more, he became aware of approaching footsteps.

"Muraki-sensei, I presume?"

Frowning slightly at the disruption to his reading, the doctor looked up to confront the stranger who had just addressed him. The man was standing with his back to the setting sun, causing his face to be cast in shadow by the blazing halo that lay behind him. Long hair, as fine as spun silk and a pure white in colour was tied neatly at the nape of the neck and draped over one shoulder, yet from the man's voice, Muraki doubted the man was past forty. His build and attire seemed to confirm the doctor's opinion. Frustrated with his inability to see the stranger's face, Muraki inclined his head slightly and fixed the man with a cold stare. "That is correct. And who might you be?"

"I'm here to see Asato."

Muraki felt a jolt of surprise at hearing a name spoken that previously he'd only seen written down. There was a tone of easy familiarity in the man's voice, which made the doctor even more curious to catch sight of the stranger's face. Rising gracefully to his feet, Muraki gestured to the shaded hospital interior; "He's right through here." The doctor paused to allow the other man to fall into step with him. "In all his time here, Tsuzuki-san has never received visitors."

The sudden transition from the evening sun to the relative gloom of the ward made the man even less easy to see than he had been outside. Muraki blinked his eyes, waiting for them to adjust to the lower level of light, while the man continued to follow. The lack of any falter in his firm stride indicated that the stranger at least had no similar eyesight problems to Muraki. "I've been involved in work that has taken me far from these shores. This has been my first real opportunity to see Asato-kun since the incident occurred." Reaching the bed in which Tsuzuki lay, the stranger stepped close to examine the man's sleeping face.

"He won't be able to respond to you," Muraki informed the man, studying the hint of profile he could see through the curtain of hair at his angle. "For his own safety, Tsuzuki-san is kept sedated."

The man straightened, but kept his face fixed on the patient and thus turned away from the doctor. "Oh? And why is that, precisely?"

Muraki shrugged and began to walk around the bed. "Tsuzuki's consciousness seems to have split into two separate functions. One is clearly bent on self-destruction, we can only begin to assume for whatever reasons. His files say he might have experienced or witnessed a horrific event which has sent him into this virtual state of shock." Reaching a point opposite the visitor, Muraki looked up only to find the man's face still cloaked in shadow.

"You said two halves. If one is trying to achieve suicide, what is the other engaged in?"

A brief smile flickered across Muraki's face as he studied the sleeping Tsuzuki. "Ah, now that is the interesting part. For the majority of the time, the patient appears to be in a vegetative state. Occasionally he surfaces from this self-imposed withdrawal and invariably tries to kill himself. At which point he will sink back into his comatose state while his body heals. In this state, he seems able to survive without food or water. We have come to the hypothetical conclusion that this vegetative state is some sort of self-protection mechanism from the other half of his psyche."

The man dipped his head in a thoughtful nod. "How intriguing. And which side would you say has the most control?"

Muraki shrugged again. "When he first arrived in my care, the self-protective instinct was definitely the dominant one. But lately it seems to have gradually weakened, causing us to have to implement the use of sedatives. Quite frankly, it is amazing that his body has survived this long, but it is only a matter of time until he finally succeeds in killing himself. Despite our best efforts, if a patient is genuinely this determined, he will eventually manage to commit suicide."

The stranger turned away from the bed. "I see. Thank you for your time, Muraki-sensei. You have been most helpful." Without another glance at the figure in the bed, the visitor strode briskly out of the room.

Muraki blinked, suddenly realising that the man had given away no information about himself. "Wait a moment, you still haven't given your name." On receiving no response from the retreating stranger, Muraki started after him. "Excuse me…"

His voice trailed off as he looked down the empty corridor. Frowning, he looked back at Tsuzuki and then once again at the empty corridor. He stood there for quite a while, a contemplative expression on his features.

Days later Tsuzuki Asato finally passed away. He had slashed his wrist. Above the body, the butterflies continued to dance against the windowpane.

/_Come scrub my hands – they won't come clean-_

_Come sit with me while the walls press in on me-_

_Shut off that light – shame on you – shame on me-_

_Come see the blood that's in my bed- _

_Come hear the things that nobody talks about-_

_Shut up your mouth – shame on you – shame on me-/_

TBC

(I am going somewhere with this – honestly.) Song is Butterfly by Tapping the Vein.


	2. Just

**2. Just**

_/You do it to yourself – you do –_

_And that's what really hurts –_

_Is you do it to yourself – just you –_

_You and no-one else –_

You do it to yourself./ 

The last few weeks had been complete hell. And with some of the weeks he'd experienced, Hisoka reflected sourly, that was saying quite a lot. He'd started off staying at home in his apartment, cleaning, getting some reading done and generally catching up on all those chores and tasks he'd been intending to complete for ages. He hadn't managed to complete a single thing. He'd be halfway through whatever random diversion he'd chosen only to find he'd paused in the middle of the task, his eyes straying to the front door, as though waiting for someone to knock.

At first he hadn't been able to work it out. Was it his empathy, somehow letting him know when people were passing by? Hisoka had been tempted by that idea, but forced to dismiss it. He knew enough about his empathy to realise that had his notion really been the case, he should have been able to pick up on some subtle differences between each of the phantom visitors. Instead it was always the same air of vague expectancy and something else; something very unfamiliar and fragile which Hisoka was finally able to call hope. The emotions were coming from none other than himself. Hisoka had been at a loss to find himself yearning for company in this somewhat pathetic manner and chose to solve the problem by heading back into work.

Tatsumi had been surprising hard to win around to this idea, Hisoka only succeeding by offering to get rid of the huge backlog of Tsuzuki's paperwork. It had been an offer made of desperation, and Tatsumi had known it. There were unfinished reports among the mountains of paper that were older than Hisoka himself. At least, Hisoka hoped that was what the other shinigami had realised, because it had taken Hisoka all of five minutes to conclude that the job was far beyond his abilities. Nevertheless, Hisoka had been confident that being surrounded by other people would surely help solve his sudden dehabilitating melancholy.  

In practise, it had only become more acute. Hisoka was flummoxed to once again find himself experiencing that same gnawing loneliness even in the midst of the bustling department. His empathy was being stretched to its utter limits by the time he spent around his colleagues and yet he still seemed to crave company. Needing some space to figure out just what was going on, but unwilling to retreat as far as his apartment, Hisoka decided to shut himself in his office while he thought the problem through.

Everything had suddenly become clear.

Upon surfacing from idle thoughts for the eleventh time to find himself staring at the empty space usually occupied by his erratic partner, Hisoka had a small epiphany. It wasn't company in general that he had been missing, but rather the presence of a certain amethyst-eyed baka. In a nutshell, he was missing Tsuzuki so badly it hurt.

Theoretically the solution to his problem should have been simple. If Hisoka was really missing Tsuzuki's company for whatever reason – no matter how bizarre and unbelievable it may seem to him, then all he had to do was spend some time with the other man. Tsuzuki was still residing in the medical wing following the whole Kyoto debacle, so it wasn't as if the hyperactive brunet would be hard to find and also with little else to distract him, Tsuzuki would probably also be glad of some company. 

But Hisoka couldn't face the idea. He didn't know why and that was what bothered him more than anything else he could think of. Admittedly, three painful years spent slowly dying in an empty room had left the blond with little fondness for hospitals, but if that had been the only problem, all Hisoka need do would be suggest a walk outside. Fresh air would certainly be well received by Tsuzuki and if the eternally blooming sakura caused a similar problem, there was no way on Earth that Tsuzuki would turn down the chance to visit a tearoom and sample some confectionary.

However it was the actual thought of making conversation with the other man that scared Hisoka rigid. He just couldn't imagine how any conversation between the two of them would turn out. Part of him wanted to simply march into the hospital room and chew his partner out for being such an idiot in the way he always did, ignoring the whole of what the two of them had experienced. Another part wanted to shake Tsuzuki until he came to his senses and scream at the man, demanding to know how he could possibly have left Hisoka alone. But the part of Hisoka that scared him the most simply wanted to fling himself at Tsuzuki and never let go in case the brunet would simply cease to be. In other words Hisoka couldn't cope with the concept that Tsuzuki might not have been in his existence anymore. He needed the other man. He needed him so badly he was afraid to go anywhere near the brunet in case his desperate longing would be too obvious to the other man and scare him away permanently.

He didn't want to need Tsuzuki; he wanted to be the other man's equal. He wanted Tsuzuki to know that he could rely on Hisoka just as much as the blond depended on him. But he was trapped in the weak and scarred body of a sixteen year old and what pitiful powers he did possess paled into insignificance when compared to the vast resources Tsuzuki had at his disposal. And he was scared that Tsuzuki had only chosen not to burn into oblivion because his guilt would not have allowed him to be in any way responsible for destroying another existence. So now the man was lumbered with Hisoka and the young shinigami was terrified to find out how Tsuzuki would respond to this realisation.

In the event, as with so many other times, other people took control. Tatsumi appeared in the midst of one of Hisoka's moping sessions to inform his colleague that Tsuzuki had finally been deemed well enough to rejoin the department and to celebrate his return the entire staff were going out to a bar. Attendance was mandatory and all drinks after the first round were to be paid for by the individuals. And this was how Hisoka found himself sitting in the darkest corner of a karaoke bar in Kyoto, listening to Konoe belt out 'My Way' for the upteenth time.

"Hisoka!" The sound of his name being called caused the youngest of the shinigami to look up warily from his orange juice. Tsuzuki was bounding towards him, a glass of sake in one hand and his usual fake smile firmly plastered over his face. Hisoka felt as though something inside him was curling in on itself at the sight of that expression. Didn't the man know by now that Hisoka could see through the mask to the sadness underneath? Was Tsuzuki simply going to pretend that none of the Kyoto incident had taken place and things could simply continue on the way they always had? Oblivious to his young partner's mood, or perhaps simply choosing to ignore it, Tsuzuki sat down with a thump next to Hisoka and leaned drunkenly towards the youth, the scent of alcohol coming off him in waves. "Why are you hiding away in a corner like this? Why aren't you singing?"

Hisoka scowled and shrank further into himself, keen to disguise his discomfort with annoyance. If Tsuzuki was going to put on a false display of emotion, then so could he. "Idiot. I don't sing."

Tsuzuki blinked owlishly at the statement, then leaned closer, his face wrinkling in confusion. "Why not? No one will mind if you're bad," he paused to wince as Konoe narrowly missed the final notes of his dramatic finale, then continued, raising his voice slightly over the clapping. "It's just for fun."

Hisoka glared into his drink, feeling his fingers tightening around the glass. "I don't sing," he repeated.

Tsuzuki was obviously refusing to take the hint, nudging Hisoka playfully in the side with an elbow as he winked at his blond partner. "Aww, are you really that bad?"

Hisoka shrugged and took a sip of his drink. "I wouldn't know. I've never tried." He looked up in time to see the look of complete bafflement in those amethyst eyes and rolled his own. "Like I said, I don't sing."

Tsuzuki seemed to be having trouble with this concept. "What, never?" he asked in amazement. At Hisoka's reluctant nod, the man leaned even closer. Hisoka felt his head start to spin and his stomach flip and reminded himself that his reaction was due to his empathic abilities picking up on Tsuzuki's inebriated state. Unaware of the effect his close proximity was having on Hisoka, Tsuzuki continued to badger. "Why not?"

Hisoka shrugged. "It always struck me as a pointless past-time." In truth it had been something impressed on him by his parents since he could remember. Singing was not the sort of activity demon children like Hisoka engaged in. He would be taught the traditional martial arts for the sake of appearances, but he was never to forget that he was an abnormality and one that was preferably neither seen nor heard within the confines of his home. Unsurprisingly, Hisoka severely doubted Tsuzuki wanted to hear yet another horror story from his formative years and so stayed silently staring into his glass until he heard Tsuzuki sigh and move away to take a turn at singing himself.

No sooner had the dark-haired man moved away, than Hisoka began to berate himself once more. Why did he keep on pushing Tsuzuki away like that? How was he ever going to get Tsuzuki to open up to him, when he offered nothing in return? At least Hisoka knew what the problem behind that was: fear of revealing the depth of his dependence on the other man. Unfortunately, he saw no way of being able to solve that problem.

Hisoka sat, absorbed in this seeming impasse, for quite some time. Eventually he became aware of someone sitting beside him and looked up into the serene features of the departmental secretary Tatsumi. The older shinigami offered Hisoka a reserved smile. "You appear to be quite lost in thought, Kurosaki-kun."

Hisoka sighed and looked over to where Tsuzuki was enthusiastically dancing to a musical interlude in his own number. When he looked back, he saw Tatsumi's gaze was also on the hyperactive performer. "He's not better," Hisoka informed Tatsumi bluntly. "And I don't know if he'll ever be. He'll just keep bottling up all the guilt and hurt until he breaks again and again."

Tatsumi smiled sadly. "That may indeed be the case, but the only person who can change that is Tsuzuki himself." The secretary hesitated then placed a comforting hand on the younger shinigami's shoulder. "But now he is with a partner who can see so easily past the façade, perhaps Tsuzuki will see the futility of such an act."

The increased contact between them caused Hisoka's empathy to pick up on the older man's hidden feelings. The blond frowned as he turned to study Tatsumi's expression closely. "If that was true then why are you so worried for him?" When the secretary remained silent, Hisoka probed gently with his powers. "Konoe's been given orders from the Count? What orders about Tsuzuki? What does he…?"

Tatsumi fixed Hisoka with a glare that made the youth fall silent. "Your empathic powers seem to be developing at an impressive rate, Kurosaki-kun. However, I must remind you that these abilities do not give you the right to pry into the affairs of others."

Hisoka blushed, but felt the protest slip from his mouth before he could stop it. "But Tsuzuki's my partner, it's my business as well."

Tatsumi readjusted his glasses and rose smoothly to his feet. "All will be revealed soon enough. In the meantime, I suggest you enjoy Tsuzuki's welcome back party."

Tsuzuki chose that moment to finish his song with a big flourish, generating an insane amount of applause from the mostly drunken audience. Hisoka cringed simply at the thought of making such a spectacle of himself and breathed a large sigh of relief as Watari practically bounded onto the stage to take his turn. He'd seen a nasty glint in Tsuzuki's eye and had been harbouring fears that he might have found himself spontaneously called upon to perform a duet. However Tsuzuki seemed to be more concerned with making his way over to talk with Hisoka than with making the young blond sing in front of a crowd. Flopping into the recently vacated seat, his elder partner studied Hisoka with faint concern. "Are you okay? You don't seem like you're having fun."

Hisoka felt himself begin to blush and cursed his pale colouring. "I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me."

Tsuzuki studied the young blond a moment more before breaking out into a carefree smile and ruffling the young empath's hair. "That's alright, I like to. You're my partner."

Hisoka jerked away from the contact, inexplicably annoyed all of a sudden. "Stop that. I'm not a child."

Tsuzuki paused for a moment before pulling a face and flicking his fingers against the tip of Hisoka's nose. "Stop acting like one, then."

"Stop treating me like one! And you're a fine one to talk about being childish!" Hisoka sunk lower into his seat, crossing his arms firmly across his chest. This only served to increase Tsuzuki's amusement and Hisoka felt his blush flare back into life as he realised he was acting exactly like an upset child. The blond rose hurriedly to his feet. "I'm going outside for a bit. I need some air."

Tsuzuki instantly looked concerned. "Is it your empathy?"

It wasn't, but Hisoka seized on the excuse to be alone without offending Tsuzuki. He made himself nod. "I'll be back in a bit, go and enjoy the rest of the party." Rather than see the kicked-puppy expression on the older man's face, Hisoka simply turned and began to thread his way through the crowd, heading towards the exit.

Outside the air was fresh and cool. Hisoka breathed it in deeply, letting his head tilt back to relish the sensation of the evening breeze across his skin. The street was deserted; no doubt due in part to the hour of the night, and the sound of drunken revelry and singing was also thankfully muted. Letting his breath out in a long, slow sigh, Hisoka's eyes snapped open as his empathy flared to life, warning him of someone's approach.

His wide green eyes met a baleful glare of matching emerald. Across the street from the blond, and looking thoroughly disgusted at having to share the space, was a tabby cat. It continued to watch Hisoka for a moment, swishing its tail in a gesture that was part-irritation, part-contemplation, before gracefully making its way into a nearby alleyway. The cat paused for a final backward glance then vanished from sight. Hisoka watched it leave with idle interest. He'd noticed an awful lot of stray cats around here, and he wondered why they were simply allowed to run rampant. With a slight shrug of his shoulders, Hisoka turned and braced himself once again for the terror that was the Staff Party.

*~*

The mood next morning was quiet and somewhat strained, and that was only partly due to after-effects of excess alcohol from the night before. The somewhat more pressing reason was being displayed in the briefing room. Hisoka looked at the file details in something approaching disbelief before turning to a grave looking Tatsumi. "You can't be serious. This isn't our area."

Tatsumi sighed slightly, but his gaze didn't falter in the slightest. "These orders came from the Count himself. For some reason Tsuzuki must be present to work on this case."

Hisoka glanced over at his partner, but the man was unusually silent, studying the pictures displayed in front of him with amethyst eyes that refused to show any expression. Turning back to the secretary, Hisoka dropped his voice slightly. "But this is his first case back and look at the details … missing children … Kyoto…"

"I am well aware of the specifics, Kurosaki-kun. And for what its worth, I share your opinion. But the fact remains that the final decision was made by a far greater authority than me and as an employee of Enma Cho I have no choice but to follow the orders given to me. And, as I shouldn't have to remind you, you also being employees of the same organisation are under the exact same obligation."

"You don't need to worry about me, Hisoka," Tsuzuki cut in. His features were relaxed into a smile that made the empath's blood positively curdle, but Hisoka knew that to call the older man out on the lie would be pointless. The blond teenager forced back the snarl that was lurking just under his expression and walked over to stand beside his partner.

Tsuzuki looked up at Hisoka, emanating a strong sense of wariness despite his cheerful and careful smile. "Well? Are we ready to go?"

Nodding, Hisoka forced himself to look as uninterested as possible. If his worry was causing Tsuzuki distress, then he would only be adding to the current problem. There was a small subsidence in the intensity of emotion coming from Tsuzuki and the blond breathed a small and mainly silent sigh of relief. Looking firmly down at his notes, lest Tsuzuki should somehow spot the concern that was no doubt present in his eyes, Hisoka cleared his throat. "Let's just collect Watari and then we can head on out. With any luck this should be easy enough to solve."

As they walked from the room Hisoka left unspoken the worry that while the perpetrator of these acts might easy enough to identify, defeating him could be considerably harder. Especially with their track record. The possibility that it could be anyone other than Muraki was not an option in his mind.

//One day he'll get to you 

_And teach you how to get to purest hell;_

_You do it to yourself - you do-_

_And that's what really hurts-_

_You do it to yourself – just you_

_You and no one else_

_You do it to yourself_//

TBC

Just, by Radiohead.


	3. Du erkennst mich nicht wieder

**3. Du erkennst mich nicht wieder.**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, the lyrics this time around aren't in English- this song got into my head while I was living in Berlin and I figured this was a good way to exorcise it. There will be a rough translation at the bottom (I've never been the most poetic of translators) but please don't let the German put you off. The title translates as 'You don't recognise me anymore'.

Tsuzuki stepped out of the coffee shop to find himself confronted with an accusing deep green glare. The tall shinigami stopped where he was and matched the stare with one of his own. Neither party moved or made a sound as the moments passed slowly. Finally Tsuzuki's opponent broke eye contact and looked away with studied indifference, pretending the silent battle of before had never occurred. Tsuzuki smiled at the action and cringed when a sharp voice spoke up at his shoulder.

"Baka, you were supposed to meet me at the hotel thirty minutes ago."

The smile on his face rapidly morphing to one designed to placate his young partner's notorious temper, Tsuzuki held up the small brow bag between them as defence. "I was getting us breakfast."

Hisoka snorted and crossed his arms. "You were having a staring match with a stray cat."

Tsuzuki pouted and waved the bag a touch more forcefully, ignoring the stray across the street who was still evidently annoyed at having lost to such an idiotic man. "No, really! And I got you a coffee. A latte with cinnamon and vanilla sprinkles."

Hisoka raised an eyebrow, suspicion clear on every delicate feature. "And just how is it you can remember _exactly_ what coffee I like, but never when or where to meet?"

The brunet shrugged and smiled again, waiting for the irritated sigh as his partner relented. He didn't have to wait long and Hisoka took the proffered coffee before motioning to the taller man to follow him. Tsuzuki immediately did so, pausing only to pull a large custard pastry from the bag and cram most of it into his mouth. Hisoka noticed the movement and rolled his eyes in apparent annoyance. Tsuzuki didn't let the gesture bother him though, he knew his partner well enough to recognise when he was really irritated and when he was simply putting on an act to keep up appearances. 

_/Du erkennst mich nicht wieder_

_Allein_

_Mein Gesicht sei noch gleich_

_Und du weisst nicht ob das reicht_

Um nicht alleine zu sein/ 

Apparently choosing to simply ignore his partner's behaviour, Hisoka began to explain what Tsuzuki had missed in between discreet sips of his coffee. "According to Tatsumi, the victims disappeared in what seems to be two separate stages of the case. The earliest victims were scattered throughout the dockland areas: often from the poorest areas and with no real school or medical records to help locate them. However roughly one month ago those random disappearances ceased and were replaced with what can only be described as a mass abduction from the whole district."

Tsuzuki pulled the second pastry from his bag and crumpled the brown paper with one hand, throwing it expertly into a nearby bin while biting into the confectionary. "Any clues as to what we're dealing with?"

"Absolutely none, hence our involvement. There are no traces, no clues, no witnesses, just a bunch of missing kids." Hisoka slowed his step and turned to face his partner. "I thought maybe we could start with a look around the area where everything seems to have started, perhaps there will be some kind of psychic residue I can pick up…" Hisoka trailed off as he looked suspiciously at his partner. "What are you finding so amusing?" he demanded.

Fighting a smile, but knowing the young empath would be able to feel his amusement in any case, Tsuzuki stepped forwards and gently brushed his fingers across the tip of Hisoka's nose. "You had some froth there."

"Oh." Hisoka's hand flew immediately to his nose; then a frown caused his green eyes to narrow at the taller shinigami once more. "My coffee didn't come with froth."

Tsuzuki's fingers moved again to gently flick the end of the youth's nose. "Fooled you," Tsuzuki sang gleefully. "Now which of us is the idiot?"

Hisoka's scowl deepened as the empath flicked his gaze quickly over the brunet before snorting and turning away. "Offhand I'd say the one with custard down his shirt."

Worried, Tsuzuki glanced down only to find his outfit immaculate. Raising his head again he was just able to catch the faint mutter of "baka" as Hisoka walked away. The violet-eyed man grinned to himself; that was the first piece of humour he'd seen the blond display since waking up in the hospital ward after Kyoto.

On reflection there had to be better ways of prompting some self-discovery and healing than staring down an imminent blazing death wrought by one's own hands. Tsuzuki might be a consummate professional in self-denial, but even he knew when it was time to face up to some home truths. However he might feel about himself, Tsuzuki had somehow managed to find himself befriended by people who were normally of sound judgement. Well, relatively sound if somewhat prone to eccentricity. The general spawn of Hell and other assorted undesirables certainly did not receive the warmth and support of people like Watari and Tatsumi. Tsuzuki may be human, demon, angel or simply suffering from the furthest-reaching and longest-running joke in recorded history, but these people didn't care. And even with all the guilt accumulated from too many years dealing with troubled spirits, Tsuzuki had a bigger obligation than to his self-destructive impulses. He had promised Hisoka that he would stay with the blond and that was exactly what he intended to do.

Not that this course of action was by any means as easy as it seemed when thus rationalised. Sure Watari was on hand to provide all the counselling Tsuzuki could stand and then a few more sessions, but the problems that had built over the best part of a century weren't something that were going to be fixed after a couple of chats from a comfortable leather couch with plenty of fresh tea on hand. Tsuzuki considered it a testament to his new found determination to live for Hisoka that he even put up with Watari's terrible Hob-nobs: hadn't the man ever heard of chocolate biscuits?

But Tsuzuki had accepted the help offered to him; had trotted along to countless sessions and actually tried his hardest to listen to what was being said. And even if, after so many years of living a lie, Tsuzuki really couldn't remember what lay under the cheerful façade or even how it felt to be smiling for something other than the sake of appearances, he didn't have to worry about being rejected by those closest to him. Hisoka had seen Tsuzuki at the edge of madness and then beyond; had been virtually dismembered by a demonically-possessed partner and was still willing to perish in Touda's flames alongside him rather than lose the brunet. If there was one thing that had become clear to Tsuzuki, it was that he didn't have to worry about being himself. Now all he had to do was remember exactly who he was.

_/Ich erkenn' hier nichts wieder_

_Alles müde und alt_

_Und ich male uns beide_

_Als Umriss aus Kreide_

_Auf den Asphalt/_

The dockyard area had changed considerably since Tsuzuki's earliest memories of the area. What had once been vast warehouses and slum dwellings for the labourers who worked there had been replaced with modern penthouse apartments, all glass and vast expense. Following his younger partner through streets that had once thronged with traders, Tsuzuki thought wistfully back to the time when an impressive array of masts would loom above the low buildings. Now even if there had been ships and galleys moored nearby the towering apartment blocks would have obscured any view of them.

With a sudden turn that Tsuzuki nearly missed in his somewhat distracted state, Hisoka turned away from the luxurious new developments. Soon Tsuzuki was rapidly losing what small sense of direction he had in the vast labyrinth of narrow streets and back-alleys. Fighting to keep any hint of a whine from his voice, which he knew would only earn a sharp rebuke from his younger partner, Tsuzuki sighed. "How much further do we have to walk? Couldn't we have just teleported straight here?"

Hisoka pulled to a halt and turned to regard his older partner with one of his more commonplace exasperated expressions. "There is no 'straight here' Tsuzuki, the locations are scattered throughout this entire area." With a small sigh, the youth pushed some strands of blond hair out of his eyes as he turned his gaze to the run-down buildings that surrounded them. The smell of rotting waste and brine caused Tsuzuki to wrinkle his nose and wish he'd bought himself a coffee or something to disguise the smell, but Hisoka seemed mostly unaware of the unsavoury odours in his state of concentration. "Not all the kids had a fixed address; some were on the streets, others in various squats. Those that lived with families were often left to run around as they saw fit."

Tsuzuki nodded to himself. "Unemployed ex-dock workers and probably a fair amount of immigrant workers. They wouldn't have found jobs easily away from this area and lacked the skills for any other form of work." The brunet sighed to himself and shook his head. Some things never seemed to change. He looked towards his partner again and saw that Hisoka was gazing off into space. There was something vaguely troubled in the empath's expression so Tsuzuki reached out to touch the youth gently on the shoulder. "Hisoka? Are you sensing something?"

The touch shook Hisoka loose from whatever train of thought he was currently on. Blinking rapidly, the blond shook his head slightly and waved a dismissive hand. "No, not really. I just tuned out for a minute."

Tsuzuki smiled to cover his concern at his partner's unusual behaviour, knowing that showing worry about the younger shinigami would only invoke Hisoka's ire. "I'm being a bad influence on you," he joked instead. "You're normally much more dedicated."

Hisoka narrowed his eyes slightly, but there was no real venom behind the gesture. Pointing towards an apartment block near the pair, the blond changed the subject. "The fifth floor of that building is where the first disappearance occurred. That's probably where we should start looking."

Tsuzuki glanced towards the stairwell and felt his nose wrinkle as it caught the odour of stale urine even from this distance. He reached out for his partner's arm. "We're teleporting. There's no one around to see us anyway." Not waiting for the inevitable stream of complaints from the empath, Tsuzuki simply transported them both to the corridor on the desired floor before stepping away from the blond.

Hisoka fixed him with a glare. "Next time tell me when you're going to do that," he muttered.

Tsuzuki pouted, turning the full power of his puppy dog eyes on a less than impressed partner. "But I did," he protested.

Hisoka snorted and began to walk down the passageway. "Before you grab me, idiot."

Tsuzuki sighed and pushed his hands down into his pockets as he fell into step beside the blond but was unable to keep the smile from his face. Idly taking in the chipped and peeling paint and the damp stains that spread across walls and floor, Tsuzuki stopped when he saw the flash of eyes further down the corridor. "Hisoka, we're being watched."

"Hmm?" Apparently lost in concentration, Hisoka blinked at Tsuzuki several times before turning to look in the same direction as the older man. Squinting into the gloom further away from the entrance, the blond frowned. "Where? I don't sense anything."

Further down the corridor from the same area came a distinct flash of movement and both shinigami tensed for a moment in expectation. Hisoka was the first to breathe a loud sigh when the culprit emerged into view. "A cat? What is it with you and felines lately?"

Tsuzuki had the decency to look embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his head. "Well there certainly seem to be a lot of them around here. We've practically been falling over the creatures since we arrived here."

Hisoka shrugged and watched as the cat made its way towards him, tail raised in an inquisitive manner. "Probably has something to do with our nearness to what used to be the harbours and docks. I imagine most people used them to keep the number of rats down." Crouching down, the blond stretched out a hand towards the feline, which sniffed at the proffered digits before delicately licking them. Obviously finding something of appeal about the young empath, the cat continued to brush itself under and around the youth, purring loudly. "I suppose when people moved out of here, they left the cats behind."

"He's certainly taken a shine to you," Tsuzuki observed, watching as his partner massaged the area behind the cat's ears to rapturous approval. A sneaking suspicion surfaced in the brunet's mind and he narrowed his violet eyes at Hisoka. "You aren't hiding food on you somewhere that you haven't told me about, are you?"

With another roll of the eyes and a snort, Hisoka stood up again. "No, Tsuzuki," he answered in a somewhat exasperated voice. A warning finger was suddenly raised under Tsuzuki's nose. "And don't even think about searching me."

Tsuzuki smiled playfully. "Why Hisoka, that sounds almost like a confession!"

The cat paused in its twining around Hisoka's legs to watch Tsuzuki and the shinigami was able to experience the somewhat disquieting effect of two disdainful green glares. Hisoka didn't hold Tsuzuki's eyes for long and soon dropped his gaze back to their surroundings with another faint mutter of "idiot."

Deciding to return to the matter at hand, Tsuzuki also looked around the dank accommodation. "So, do you sense anything?"

Hisoka paused before responding dryly; "Relief that Tatsumi didn't know about this place when he was assigning our hotel rooms and a definite craving for cream cakes… oh wait that's you." With a somewhat frustrated sigh, Hisoka spun around in a slow circle. "I don't know. There's nothing here. If the children were taken by force, I'd expect to pick up on some residual fear or even just surprise, but there's nothing. Just something vague that I can't define." The blond shrugged. "And that's probably just an echo of my own emotions which I'm picking up because I'm concentrating too hard."

"Oh." Tsuzuki frowned at the lack of any immediate leads before letting another smile creep across his face. "So about those cream cakes you mentioned…"

"Two words Tsuzuki. Expenses limit."

"But we're not finding out anything here! Maybe we should go and mull over some ideas with the aid of a refreshing cup of tea."

"Another two words then. Angry Tatsumi."

Tsuzuki slumped with a distinct pout. "You're mean."

Obviously determined not to catch Tsuzuki's gaze lest he be exposed to the pleading puppy eyes, Hisoka focused intently on the nearest doorway. "No, I just have some vague sense of a work ethic." Pausing, the youth reached out a hand to flick at the doorjamb. "This lock's broken. Someone's forced it open from the outside."

Tsuzuki wandered over to take a closer look. "It might not mean anything," he said reluctantly. "It's a fair bet a good number of these places are used as squats or have been broken into at some point. There's nothing to indicate it has anything to do with the disappearances."

Hisoka moved away and brushed his hair away from his face. "You're right. Except for a whole load of missing children, there's no evidence of any crime whatsoever." The empath sighed in defeat. "Come on, we may as well grab something to eat before heading onwards."

Tsuzuki clapped his hands together in delight. "Great! I know just the place!"

_/Ich erkenn' mich nicht wieder_

_Nur mein Herz dass noch schlägt_

_Und ich hebe die Arme_

_Um zu seh'n ob die warme_

Nachtluft mich trägt/ 

The problem with having an empathic partner, Tsuzuki mused not for the first time, was the complete inability to discretely observe said partner for anything longer than a couple of seconds. And that was only because the blond still seemed strangely pre-occupied. As Tsuzuki dropped his gaze for what seemed like the fifth time, he heard a sigh from Hisoka.

"What is it?"

Toying with his cake fork and dragging the prongs through the raspberry puree that his torte had been served with, Tsuzuki tried to think of a way to phrase his thoughts that wouldn't result in the blond snapping at him. As usual, he couldn't think of anything and so decided to just be blunt and face the music. "Are you okay?"

Hisoka paused midway in raising his cup of tea, obviously taken by surprise. He blinked at Tsuzuki for a moment or two then slowly lowered the cup back to the saucer, dropping his eyes to the steaming drink as he did so. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?" he said quietly. 

Tsuzuki made to touch the empath's hand, but thought better of it. However melancholy his partner might look, any attempted form of comfort would just be rejected. Hisoka still seemed to equate emotions with weakness and would see the gesture as Tsuzuki confirming his inferior status. The brunet sighed as he tried to focus his thoughts with words alone, and of course failed to find the exact way to phrase how he felt. "I'm not the only one who went through an ordeal, Hisoka. You seem so withdrawn lately and I was wondering if there's something that's still bothering you." Tsuzuki paused but his partner made no sign of responding, prompting the older shinigami to continue. "If you're worried about me, you don't have to be. I made a promise to stay with you and I intend to keep it."

Hisoka's entire form had become tense, even though the youth himself was completely still. Finally exhaling his breath and looking up to glance at his concerned partner, Hisoka shook his head slightly. "It's just …" Instead of completing his answer, the empath trailed off and dropped his eyes to Tsuzuki's plate. "Aren't you going to eat that? You paid enough for it."

Tsuzuki look down to the mangled remains of his chocolate and raspberry torte. The sauce had mixed with the chocolate filling during Tsuzuki's idle fork-doodling and the resulting colour was a red just a touch too dark and vivid for the brunet to feel happy eating. He pushed the plate away. "No, but you can have it if you want. I haven't seen you eat anything today."

The surprised expression darted across Hisoka's face again and to Tsuzuki's surprise, the blond actually picked up the small fork, albeit with apparent reluctance. "This must be really awful if even you don't want to eat it…"

Smiling again, Tsuzuki shook his head enthusiastically. "No, it's really good!"

Hisoka snorted. "As if your taste-buds are to be trusted."

"Hey!"

A shadow fell over the pair, putting an immediate stop to the conversation as both shinigami looked up at the newcomer. Tsuzuki's face broke into a bright smile almost immediately. "Watari! You found us!"

The blond scientist slid into an empty chair with a laugh. "It wasn't hard. I just decided to concentrate my search to places known for their confectionary and desserts." The small bird perched on the man's shoulder and almost hidden behind the untameable hair nodded sagely along with her owner.

While Tsuzuki continued to beam at the man, Hisoka sighed and replaced the cake fork. "Please tell us you found something. Anything."

Watari smiled again and 003 puffed out her chest, causing Hisoka's spirits to rise slightly. "A duck's quack does indeed echo," he announced proudly. "In fact, it sounds pretty sinister."

Hisoka slumped, wondering why he hadn't prepared himself for such an answer. "I meant anything to do with our case," he clarified.

"Oh." Watari seemed completely unfazed and leant back in his chair to think. "I spent most of morning in the bars around the affected area."

"You did?" Tsuzuki cut in indignantly before turning to Hisoka with an accusing expression. "Why didn't we volunteer for that bit?"

"Baka, don't interrupt." Hisoka glared at his partner until the brunet subsided before turning back to Watari. "Anything come to light?"

The scientist paused to scratch lightly at the feathers on 003's chest. "A lot of rumours, though it was hard to tell if it was anything that tied into the disappearances. There was some group formed a while back that was very secretive, but it sounded just like your usual gangland stuff. Protection rackets, and another lot suspected of drug smuggling. What I do know for certain is that a very distinctive looking man has been seen in the area from around the time the kids first started going missing."

Tsuzuki glanced across at Hisoka briefly before turning back to Watari, his expression guarded. "Do you have a description?"

"Nothing definite except for one thing. He appeared to be quite a young man, yet he had pure white hair."

"Does Konoe know about this?" Hisoka asked.

The taller blond shinigami nodded, having obviously expected Hisoka's response. "And before you ask, you two are to be kept on this case with me. I don't know why, but the orders came from above. If Konoe knows what it's about, he's not talking."

The three shinigami fell silent for a moment before Hisoka shifted irritably in his chair. "I have a really bad feeling about this whole thing," he muttered.

_/Unerkannt_

_Flieg ich ans Ende der Stadt_

_Ans Ende der Welt_

Und über den Rand/ 

TBC

Du erkennst mich nicht wieder, by Wir Sind Helden

Translation for those who are interested:

Du erkennst mich nicht wieder                                          You don't recognise me anymore

Allein                                                                                     Alone

Mein Gesicht sei noch gleich                                             My face is still the same

Und du weisst nicht ob das reicht                                    And you don't know whether that's enough

Um nicht alleine zu sein                                                      Not to be alone

Du erkennst mich nocht wieder                                         You don't recognise me anymore

Unerkannt                                                                             Unrecognised

Bin ich die halbe Nacht noch                                             I've still spent half the night

Um die Häuser gerannt                                                       Running around the houses.

Ich erkenn hier nichts wieder                                             I don't recognise anything here anymore

Allles müde und alt                                                              Everything tired and old

Und ich male uns beide                                                       And I paint us both

Als Umriss aus Kreide                                                        As an outline in chalk

Auf den Asphalt                                                                  On the asphalt

Du erkennst mich nicht wieder                                          You don't recognise me anymore

Du erkennst mich nicht wieder                                          You don't recognise me anymore

Du erkennst mich nicht wieder                                          You don't recognise me anymore

Unerkannt                                                                             Unrecognised

Hab ich dann drüben im Park                                             Over in the park

Meine Kleider verbrannt                                                     I then burnt my clothes

Ich erkenn mich nicht wieder                                             I don't recognise myself anymore

Nur mein Herz dass noch schlägt                                      Only my heart which still beats

Und ich hebe die Arme                                                       And I raise my arms

Um zu seh'n ob die wärme                                                  To see whether the warm

Nachtluft mich trägt                                                             Night air carries me

Du erkennst mich nicht wieder …                                     You don't recognise me anymore…

Unerkannt                                                                             Unrecognised

Flieg ich ans Ende der Stadt                                               I fly to the end of the city

Ans Ende der Welt                                                              To the end of the world

Und über den Rand                                                             And over the edge


	4. The Reckoning

**4. The Reckoning.**

Warning: New characters! And both of them may seem a little hard to distinguish from one another to begin with … sorry, but it's the only way I'm going to get this to work. Who and what they are should all become clear really quickly in any case.

His arrival had been noted. The first steps he took into the city were watched in earnest by the gathering, tense with expectation as they watched each fluid movement. A thousand eyes of green, amber and gold studied the stranger, aware that there was something unusual about this well-dressed man, but unable to work out what that might be. As for the man, he also paused in his movements, equally aware of that sixth sense of wrongness.

Coming to a halt, the man inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. Calmly he stilled himself and listened. Around him drummed the steady beat of air conditioning units and machinery, over which purred the engines of a multitude of cars. Another layer of sound was provided by the electronic hum of the power grids and the intermittent swish of automated doors. Punctuating that was the staccato rhythm of doors being closed manually: doors to homes, cars and offices. Dustbins clanged, glass shattered, an alarm wailed. Then were the noises of the inhabitants, a cacophony of pounding feet and murmuring voices: of house pets and strays, of sobs and laughter, drunken karaoke and grieving laments. The stranger let the sound wash around him, until he became aware of a single jarring note in the tapestry; a sound that did not belong. The man's face stretched into a smile. It appeared his search was at an end. The man opened his eyes once more and set off into the city as his audience dispersed back into the shadows with little more than the flick of a tail.

_/Come to me, kill for me, worship me_

_Follow everything I do_

_Act it out before me_

_I'm the one they told you would come again_

_Let me show you all the signs to bring about the end/_

Occasionally he saw indications that this discord was being registered on some subconscious level by the more sensitive members of the population. A young girl sat stubbornly in a park, clinging tightly to a stuffed animal, wincing to the complete bafflement of her mother. Nearby, leaning against a wall while waiting for a bus, a young man continued to adjust the volume of the CD Walkman at his side, the tinny beats already clearly audible to those around him, as he sought to drown out a noise he couldn't quite hear. The stranger noticed several dogs with their tails firmly drooped, paws over their ears and whimpering. A young receptionist in a hotel lobby continued to tap her pen against the counter, while around her phones trilled unattended. 

Retiring a bar further off the beaten path than most ventured, the man sat back and waited. He then heard the expected hum, not so much a note as a vibration of yet another hidden sense that signalled the arrival of Enma Cho's delegation. With another small smile he wondered if he was the only newcomer in town who had noticed the increase in supernatural forces.

_/I'll take you down_

_To a hole where you will always be alone_

_I'll turn you out_

_On a world that doesn't care if you belong_

_I'll push you off_

_Of the thrones that you've erected for yourself_

_You will be tossed_

_On the pile of all the filth that you've created/_

As it turned out, the stranger currently sitting in a bar and sipping on sake wasn't the only person to have felt the shinigami's arrival. Visiting one of Kyoto's many out of the way shrines, a tall and lean gaijin suddenly turned his head and rose to his feet with a faint frown. Closing his eyes and drawing in his breath slowly and carefully the man seemed to concentrate for a moment before relaxing his features back into their easy-going smile. Brushing the dirty-blond hair away from his tanned face, the man stooped to collect the small case beside him before making his way out onto the streets. His movements were obviously still being monitored by people who should have given up the game a long time ago, the fair-haired man reflected with an amused twist to his lips. Not that he was worried by any means. His plans were in no danger from interference by shinigami. There was only one person who had the power to stop him and he was unable to play any active role. Whistling a tune to himself, the gaijin headed back towards the centre of the city and the intriguing preparations that seemed to be underway.

_/I watched you take the power in your hands and throw it all away_

_I knew you would fall down again someday_

_Come on now, you know I won't hurt you_

_Come on now, I'm here to protect you_

_Come on now, I'll lead you to shelter_

_Come on now, you know/_

Tsuzuki had tried at length to persuade his partner to accompany him into the bar, but Hisoka had caught one fragment of the karaoke being sung inside and proved intractable. He refused to enter any establishment where Tsuzuki would attempt to get him to sing out of a sadistic desire to watch Hisoka embarrass himself, the empath announced, and the brunet was simply going to have to get drunk either by himself or in the company of Watari. As far as Hisoka was concerned, he was staying out in the pleasant sunlight. The cat currently twining around the young shinigami's ankles, looking suspiciously like the same one from the apartment block, had purred in enthusiastic approval of this plan while Tsuzuki had found his arm clamped in a strong grip by the blond scientist as he was led into the bar.

"Don't get jealous of a cat," Watari admonished lightly. "It makes you look like a five year old."

Tsuzuki scowled and sullenly ordered a sake. "I'm not jealous," he insisted petulantly, slumping down across the bar and resting his chin across his folded arms. "I'm just trying to get him to lighten up a little."

Their drinks arrived and Watari sipped his orange juice while watching Tsuzuki pour the clear contents of his own glass down his throat in a steady stream. "Surely there are better ways of getting bon to 'lighten up' than by making the boy perform to a room of strangers."

Tsuzuki pulled a face and waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the stage area where another patron was making his way over to the stage. "No one's really paying attention, it just relieves a bit of tension." Pausing, the brunet studied his empty glass with contemplative violet eyes before ordering a refill. "Anyway, he should actually be very good. His speaking voice is so pleasant to listen to that I can't imagine his singing being bad."

Watari rolled his eyes. "That has very little to do with this and you know it. There's something else motivating you. What is it?"

Tsuzuki blinked at the question, pulling himself away from the bar to prop his chin in one hand while he pondered the answer. "I don't know," he confessed finally. "I just feel like it's important somehow. It's just this weird thought hovering in the back of my mind that doesn't seem to make any real sense." The shinigami paused for another few beats and then slumped back onto the bar. "It has to be the alcohol," he decided. "It's putting these thoughts into my head."

Watari watched as the man waved his empty glass in the direction of the bartender, signalling for yet more sake. "And so just why are you drinking more?" he enquired mildly.

"I haven't drunk enough to drown it out yet." Unwilling to make further conversation, Tsuzuki began to idly drum his fingers on the bar in time to the up tempo track that had begun to play on the sound system.  Watari obviously accepted that the discussion was at an end and left Tsuzuki to his drink as he turned to watch the latest singer. It wasn't long before Tsuzuki frowned and turned to face the same direction. "I know that song … but not the way that guy is butchering it. What is it supposed to be?"

Watari shrugged. "I think it's the Rolling Stones … purely because that guy clearly thinks he's Mick Jagger." He paused to listen for a few more bars and winced. "Konoe could sing better than that … or possibly even you."

Tsuzuki straightened indignantly. "What do you mean 'even me'?"

"I've heard your attempts to speak English and really don't want to be subjected to you trying to sing it."

Amethyst eyes narrowed in defiance, Tsuzuki glared at the grinning scientist and promptly began to sing along, mangling the words badly; "Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name. Oh yeah. Ah what's puzzling you is the nature of my game, oh yeah."

A cough from the other side of the brunet caused Tsuzuki to spin, all thoughts of singing forgotten. Leaning against the bar was a tall man with long, white hair pulled into a braid away from his face. Smiling at the pair, the man offered a hand. "Let me please introduce myself," he began. "I believe you two are the pair sent by the orders of the Earl to investigate the situation here?"

Experience having at least taught the brunet something about the etiquette of meeting strange blonds who knew far more than they should, caused Tsuzuki to narrow his eyes in suspicion. "And who might you be?"

"As I was about to say, my name is Tenebrae. I was the first to notice the problem here was more than a simple abduction and requested the Earl to send along some of his agents to investigate further. It appears that he actually paid me some attention." The man gave a small laugh and continued; "Other than that, think of me as a freelance supernatural observer."

Tsuzuki glanced over at Watari and saw from the scientist's expression that the blond was no more convinced than he was. The blond adjusted his glasses and gave Tenebrae a guarded smile. "Freelance observer? Well I suppose the Earl has to get his information from somewhere other than the register."

The stranger matched the smile. "Precisely. Especially in cases like this when there is simply no trace of the victims. I have dealt with similar situations before, so have some experience of how to progress with this case. Useful when the shinigami shouldn't technically be acting without either bodies or proof thereof."

Watari leaned back in his seat and studied the stranger with narrowed eyes. "When you phrase it like that, one wonders what we're doing here at all. Surely there are other departments with the authority to be dealing with this case?"

Tenebrae shrugged. "You'll have to discuss that with your supervisors, but from what I gather, you were the only option." The man paused before flicking the long white hair back off his shoulder. "I still haven't managed to get your names?"

"My name is Watari and I am the shinigami in charge for this area. My companion is Tsuzuki." The introductions made the blond scientist look at his watch before pulling on Tsuzuki's arm with a worried expression. "Bon's going to pissed at us, we've been in here far longer than we said."

"Bon?"

There was a hint of amusement in the stranger's voice that made Tsuzuki look up and glare at the man with more venom than he'd intended. "Kurosaki Hisoka. He's waiting outside for us."

Eyebrows raising slightly at the response, the pale-haired man stepped back into the shadows of the club. "In that case I had better let you retrieve him. This isn't the best of times to leave a youth alone in the city."

Tsuzuki allowed himself to be pulled from his chair by Watari and frowned as he was led up the stairs into the sunlight. "That creep knows too much and he's not talking. Like how did he know Hisoka was young anyway?"

"I imagine he saw Bon as he was entering the bar in search for us," Watari answered absently. "If you think he's suspicious we can get a background check done on him, but if his story checks out then our one lead just went up in smoke."

"Serves you both right for thinking you could get anywhere by sitting in a bar and drinking all afternoon."

Both Watari and Tsuzuki clutched at each other in surprise as they whirled around to face the small blond who stood watching them with an unreadable expression. The cat from earlier was now being held against the youth's chest where it was dozing with a very contented expression. Tsuzuki tore himself away from glaring at the creature for unknown reasons to smile weakly at the blond. "You don't have to creep up on us like that," he commented with a somewhat forced sounding laugh. "We are working together on this after all."

"Hn." Hisoka seemed unaware that the majority of Tsuzuki's attention was focused on his slim fingers, which were currently engaged with scratching behind the cat's ears. Proving the inherent malicious nature of all felines, the cat lazily opened one eye to regard the purple-eyed shinigami before closing it again and flicking its tail with a loud purr of approval. 

"You weren't too bored waiting for us, were you?" Watari asked, causing Hisoka's attention to snap away form his strangely behaving partner. "We didn't mean to be so long."

A distinct smirk spread across the empath's features. "Actually it was very beneficial. I decided to use the peace and quiet to focus my empathy on any unusual emotions which were emanating from nearby."

Tsuzuki looked at his partner's face, feeling a surge of hope at the smugness there. "You found something?"

Hisoka nodded curtly. "I found something. A witness."

_/I'll take you down_

_To a hole where you will always be alone_

_I'll turn you out _

_On a world that doesn't care if you belong_

_I'll push you off_

_Of the thrones that you've erected for yourselves_

_You will be tossed_

_On the pile of all the filth that you've created/_

"Tell me again just why your witness felt the need to hide away in the top of a church spire?" Tsuzuki asked, trying to suppress the note of petulance in his voice. "And why we're having to climb these stairs instead of just heading straight there?" Sometimes, the brunet reflected darkly, he had the strong suspicion his partner did this just to be difficult. At least the blond had gotten rid of that insufferable cat.

"Appearing straight in front of him wouldn't be a good idea," Hisoka replied, seemingly unconcerned by his partner's moods. "His sanity is somewhat questionable at the moment and I didn't want to take him by surprise. We'd never get any information out of him that way."

Next to Tsuzuki, Watari beamed at the other shinigami. "Well he'll certainly be able to hear us coming!"

Hisoka let out a short laugh. "I wouldn't be so sure of that, actually."

Tsuzuki frowned in disbelief. "With the acoustics in here? What aren't you telling us?"

"I think it's really better if you see for yourselves." With a small sigh, the empath reached the top of the stairs and gestured for his two companions to step ahead of him. "I'll let you two lead for the way for obvious reasons."

With a raised eyebrow, Watari stepped forwards, Tsuzuki close behind the scientist. In the belfry, directly below the large bell, sat what appeared on first glance to be nothing more than a collection of filthy rags. Then the heap moved, revealing the emaciated and filthy figure that existed within the layers of clothing. Upon seeing the intruders, the figure screeched and slapped both hands firmly over its ears. "Sanctuary!" it bawled. "Sanctuary!"

Raising his hands in a reassuring gesture, Watari took another step forwards. As he neared the figure, he was able to see that the shaking form was a young man in his mid-twenties. Anything further was hard to determine from behind the tangled length of hair and growth on his face that indicated the man had been up here for quite a while. Scattered at his feet were a pile of communion wafers and bottles of what Watari assumed to be holy water. The scientist winced. No wonder the man looked so thin. "It's alright," the blond soothed. "We're not here to hurt you."

Suspicion radiating to even a greater extent than his body odour, the man slowly lowered his hands. "I'm not leaving," he announced loudly, in a voice that was cracked and hoarse. "You can't make me. I've claimed sanctuary. That's how it's supposed to work right?"

Watari shrugged, exchanging glances with the other two shinigami before turning back to the man. "But why stay here in the belfry? The bells must be very loud. Wouldn't somewhere quieter be better to sleep?"

Shaking his head violently, the man reached up to clutch at the metal curve of the bell. "Mustn't be quiet! Mustn't hear him coming!" he shrieked. "Must stay here where all I can hear are the bells."

"What?" Tsuzuki muttered. "What use is there in not being able to hear your enemy approaching? He'll sneak right up on you."

From his relaxed position against the wall, Hisoka crossed his arms and shrugged. "Like I said, the guy isn't really rational at the moment." The empath paused, and Tsuzuki could see the strain in his slight build from blocking out the man's emotions. "Something's scared him out of his wits so most of what is says is random babbling. But every now and then he mentions something that could almost make sense."

Stepping up alongside Watari, Tsuzuki crouched down to talk to the man. "Who is it you're hiding from?" he asked. "Is someone after you?"

With a sudden lurch forwards, the man grabbed Tsuzuki's collar and peered desperately into his face. "We tried to cheat him and now he wants revenge. Thought we could buy him off at first, but it wasn't good enough – wanted us to stick to the original contract. But how could we? It should have worked! They were enough! But now he's after us."

"If he's that determined, why do you think hiding in a church will stop him?" Hisoka asked, his expression hovering somewhere between indifference and distain.

Letting his grip loosen to the point where Tsuzuki could draw away, the man turned to stare at the young blond. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times as the man searched for some sort of answer. Unable to find a response he simply continued to stare at Hisoka with an unnerving intensity.

Not liking the way in which his partner was being stared at, Tsuzuki cleared his throat to speak. The man abruptly spun back to face Tsuzuki at the sound and virtually fell backwards in his haste to get away from the man. "Get out! Get out now!" Clapping his hands back over his ears, the man began to rock gently, making nothing more than inarticulate crooning. 

Looking helplessly at Watari, Tsuzuki climbed to his feet. "Do we have to leave him here like this? Can't we take him back to Meifu and see if he calms down?"

Sighing, Watari shook his head. "Not without his consent. You heard him, he's claimed sanctuary. As long as he stays in the church, we can't force him to go anywhere."

"And even if we could get him to leave, I doubt we could get anymore sense out of him," Hisoka added. "I don't know how long he's been living off those wafers and water, but his mind is mostly gone. I can't make any sense of his emotions at all."

"Well it's something to go on, I guess," Watari conceded thoughtfully. "It sounds like a demon summoning or binding that went wrong. That explains taking refuge in the church as well, but narrowing the search down could take a while."

Tsuzuki glanced glumly back at the gibbering form and shrugged. "I don't see us accomplishing much in the meantime. Let's head back to the hotel and start trying to piece this together."

Watari fell into step behind the man. "Well at least we have something to show for ourselves now. Tatsumi can't complain about us wasting expenses on alcohol again."

"We?" Hisoka enquired dryly. "I fail to remember taking part in any drinking binge."

"Well if you're feeling left out we can easily pick up some sake on the way back-"

"Baka."

The pair continued to bicker all the way down, with Watari listening on in amusement. As they stepped once more into the sunshine, the scientist decided to put an end to the squabbling with a laid-back comment. "Well, Bon, it appears your cat has left you."

Breaking off, Hisoka glanced around, squinting slightly in the early evening sun. "Actually, there don't seem to be any at all in this part of the city. That's odd, you would think they would spread out more evenly and not fight for food."

Still feeling less than generous with the feline species, Tsuzuki snorted. "That's probably the real reason he's hiding out up there. This must be the only part of town that isn't crowded with them."

Hisoka raised an eyebrow as he turned to look at his partner. "What's made you so against cats all of a sudden?"

Tsuzuki shrugged and set off down the street, pausing to throw some change into the open case of a street musician who was performing to a particularly admiring crowd. "I like cats, but they were beginning to turn up everywhere."

Watari grinned as they passed another busker, this one packing up after a day's work. "Maybe they don't like the noise here. There are certainly a lot of musicians in this district."

Hisoka shrugged. "It's one of the main tourist routes, isn't it? They probably would be the most likely to have spare change."

Grinning, Tsuzuki nudged his young partner. "You know what else you find on the main tourist routes? Restaurants! Who's hungry?"

"There's a really good Korean place around here," Watari chipped in, cheerfully cutting off the protest on Hisoka's lips. "Or if you'd rather, there's a curry house that does an amazing Phaal a bit further down."

"Ooooh, Indian could be good," Tsuzuki enthused. "Saag aloo … and what's that bread called? You know the puffy kind filled with air?"

Watari's answer was drowned out by a scream from back the way the three shinigami had come. Hurrying back, they saw a large crowd gathering near the church. Watari cursed under his breath, a sentiment that was echoed by the expressions on Tsuzuki and Hisoka's faces. Slowing their pace, the trio approached to be confronted with the body of the man they'd been questioning earlier, now face-down amid a gory mess on the pavement.

TBC


	5. Shadows

**5. Shadows**

It was not the sort of place decent people went into. That isn't to say there was anything about the immaculate décor of the place to dissuade the general populace, but rather some malevolent aura managed to permeate the building and creep onto the street outside. Most people simply sped up their walk until they were past without even thinking why, but for criminals and Kyoto's various nefarious elements, it was a beacon and they flocked there in droves.

This particular night was no exception and gathered around the smoky table in the corner, only a few of the men looked up as a newcomer slid into a seat. What did cause them to look up in interest was the sudden shattering sound of glass.

The newcomer brushed off the shards and splashes of alcohol as best he could while calmly turning his gaze to the irate man who stood before him. "Have I somehow caused offence?" he enquired lightly, the foreign inflections in his voice confirming him for the gaijin his appearance had suggested.

"Bastard," the angry man sneered. He was well-known to most of the patrons of the bar, a rising figure in the underworld scene. The observers in the bar no doubt wondered just what the foreigner had done to cross this man and also if it could possibly be connected with the disappearance of much of his gang. "You fucking tricked me!"

Despite everything the foreigner remained calm. "I did nothing of the sort," he commented. "You were made well aware of the consequences beforehand."

"You just offered a rake of cash to take that bloody thing off our hands! What were we expected to do except think it was worth something?"

A shrug as he brushed back immaculate white hair: "There is a wide variety of actions you could have taken. Using the object in question was one of the least wise. Misusing it was probably the only thing stupider … oh wait, you did that too."

The thug slammed both his hands down on the table, thrusting his face close into the foreigner's. "I know I'm next," he said, the tone of anger in his voice beginning to give way to fear. "How can he be stopped?"

There was a pause then the pale stranger turned away. "He can't. Not by you. And not by me either for that matter, so I wouldn't bother asking." He rummaged in his coat and withdrew a small object. "Here you are. Consider it a parting gift, I doubt you have long."

The man watched as the foreigner left the bar. Then he turned his gaze to the small statue in his hand. The three monkeys sat next to one another in a line, but lacking the usual variation in posture. Each simply clamped its hands tight over the ears. Hear no evil.

_/Moon in shadows, hiding faces_

_In a blue-eyed, dead end night_

_Broken dreams and colded heartbeats_

_Standing tender by my side/_

"So Konoe actually confirmed this Tenebrae is what he says he is?" Hisoka raised a sceptical eyebrow at Watari's nodded assent. With a sigh, the small blond slumped back in his chair, green eyes narrowed in irritation. "Something about this entire case is seriously suspicious," the empath muttered. "And that's even before we take the complete lack of headway into account."

Watari nodded again in agreement. "There is something highly unusual about Tenebrae, but Tatsumi said that it was exceedingly hard to even get what information we have."

Tsuzuki glumly poked at his pastry. "Can't we just pin it all on him, being the pale-haired outsider who knows way too much about the case and us? Then if Konoe objects, we can claim Muraki has made us all irreparably biased and as such we should definitely get some vacation time." The brunet paused for a moment and then added. "Somewhere without cats, preferably. I think I'm developing an allergy to them."

Hisoka looked over at his partner in faint surprise. "I thought I was supposed to be the negative influence of the group. And why do you keep mentioning cats?" Turning his attention back to the data folder that sat in front of him in lieu of any edible breakfast, Kurosaki began to flip through the pages. "Going from what little we were able to gather from our witness before he decided to kill himself, a summoned demon does indeed look like the most likely explanation. And if we conclude that it was originally bound by whatever group brought it to this plane, then the disappearances start to make more sense as well."

Tsuzuki perked his ears up at that, leaning in closer to Hisoka to read the documents himself. "Really?"

Hisoka glared at the violet-eyed man that was currently invading his personal space, but Tsuzuki seemed unaware of any discomfort he was causing. With a small roll of his eyes, Hisoka turned his attention back to the map of the area that he had covered in dots to mark each disappearance. Tapping his finger against a cluster of blue dots, Hisoka cleared his throat. "These are all what we assume to be the first stage of disappearances. They were typically identified as being victims of uncertain family backgrounds and often those missing much of the bureaucratic paperwork, medical histories, various educational documents and so on, that would have made their whereabouts easy to trace. Hence the lack of fuss when they originally began to go missing.

"Another characteristic of these early incidents is the small number in which the victims would disappear; normally groups of two or three, but never any bigger than five.  Finally, while still confined to the poor, dockside areas, the incidents were nevertheless relatively spread out compared to the later attacks." Hisoka's finger traced over the paper to ring a large area that was all but covered in deep red dots. "When taken individually, these display all the hallmarks of the earlier attacks, yet when examined as a group there are several discrepancies. Firstly, the sheer number of victims to disappear at one time: to jump from a maximum of five to around thirty suggests a different driving motive. Secondly, the victims themselves were all taken from one block area, regardless of their background and any aids the authorities would find in trying to track and identify the missing group."

 Watari leaned back in his seat thoughtfully. "Could the earlier abductions simply have been a rehearsal for the main event? A means of perfecting the manner in which the victims were chosen and then removed from their location without raising any attention?"

Tsuzuki nodded enthusiastically for a moment before pausing in thought. "It's a good suggestion, but that's the sort of thing a human would do. Demons don't need to waste time perfecting their technique and in any case, subtlety isn't foremost on their agenda."

"Exactly," Hisoka agreed. "Which only leaves us with one conclusion. The initial disappearances weren't carried out by the demon per se, but rather while he was still under the control of whatever group summoned him. With the mortals in apparent control of the situation, the concern for not raising undue attention makes sense. As to the whole disappearances in the first place, they can probably be traced back to displays of power to keep the rest of the area under the group's control or sacrifices to the demon. Digging around further can hopefully reveal whether any of the missing were known to be on the blacklist of any gangs.

"But the group obviously lost control of their pet demon, according to what little sense we were able to get out of that guy in the church. And although I'm guessing, I'd say the second technique in the disappearances was carried out by the demon without any other interference. Which leaves us with another problem."

"Is it likely to happen again," Watari finished, brow already creased in thought.

Tsuzuki shrugged, preferring to focus his attention on his dessert than the somewhat depressing turn of conversation. "We won't know for sure until we can work out what demon we're dealing with." Tsuzuki slumped lower in his seat. This was inevitably going to lead to more work, and he doubted it was going to be of the 'sitting in bars' variety.

_/Light is fading, into darkness_

_Time to kiss your soul goodnight_

_Waiting for the everlasting_

_God-almighty golden light/_

Having abandoned Tsuzuki and Watari to their own individual lines of enquiry, which Hisoka had no doubt wouldn't somehow end with the pair safely ensconced in a bar or café somewhere, the blond had returned to the church where he had found their one witness to date. The slim youth stood before the stone building, squinting up at the spire, lost in thought. What had made the man choose this particular church to hide in? And why a church at all? The area in which both the man and the disappearances had been located was a fair distance from the building, and there were numerous shrines between here and the docks. In addition, the man's files had revealed him to have been raised Buddhist, with no indication of a working knowledge of Christianity. To choose to hide in a place of worship when you were a different religion … perhaps something had made the man believe a shrine would have been ineffective in providing protection?

Lacking a corresponding faith to the building left only the possibility that the now dead man had felt that the demon possessed an aversion to the sign of the cross. A Western demon perhaps? That might explain the lack of success the department was having in trying to track down the perpetrator and also the gaijin Tenebrae's sudden arrival.

However it still didn't grant Hisoka any initial insight into the case. The empath shook his head and sighed. Perhaps he would have more luck back nearer the docks. After all, he didn't seem to be achieving anything standing around here. Stepping backwards to turn away from the church, Hisoka was startled away from his thoughts as he collided with someone.

Blinking rapidly in an attempt to bring his focus back to the here and now, Hisoka found himself automatically apologising. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going. Are you alright?"

The stranger he had crashed into was a relatively tall and somewhat gangly-looking man in his mid-twenties. Shaking a curtain of dirty-blond hair from his lean face, the man smiled down at the empath. "I'm fine, I seem to have a habit of being a bit clumsy."

Hisoka nodded absently, trying to work out why the man seemed somehow familiar. Then he noticed the small instrument case at the stranger's side and felt his memory click. "You're a street musician?"

The man hefted his case slightly and grinned, his teeth appearing unusually white in his tanned face. "'Fraid so. It's a good way to practice and raise some money at the same time. We all have to be in top form for the festival."

The empath felt his forehead crease into a slight frown. "Festival?" he enquired with a twinge of nervousness in his voice. "What festival would that be?" Inwardly the blond feared Tsuzuki finding out about this and obliterating any hope of finishing this case quickly.

"Didn't you see the signs everywhere? Starting Friday this place is going to place host to a huge music festival. We've got acts coming from all over the globe and loads of us street musicians are hoping to get some gigs or maybe even spotted." The man paused for a moment and sighed. "Hopefully the practice will have paid off, even if traffic was more than a little slow after the incident here. Suicides tend to put a crimp on income."

Sensing an opportunity to indirectly find out something about the current situation, Hisoka tried to look innocently curious. "A suicide? Here?"

The musician nodded. "I know, not the typical spot for that sort of thing is it?"

"I wonder why he chose to die here," Hisoka mused.

"Maybe he didn't." At the somewhat shocked look Hisoka threw in his direction, the musician shrugged. "Not like that, I mean. Maybe he hates music. Or just heard something that he didn't like."

Hisoka raised an eyebrow at the suggestion. "Didn't like so much that he'd kill himself?"

The musician shrugged again, this time with a wink. "Don't underestimate music, kid. It's a much more powerful force than people realise." With that, he turned and began to walk towards where the other street musicians gathered, whistling a tune as he did so.

Hisoka watched him go, wondering what it was about that repetitive refrain that made him feel so uneasy.

_/Where the sun burns, I will be there_

_Once upon a former time_

_All the laughter, all this fighting_

_Seem to be part of mine/_

It was quiet here, on this particular bench. Tsuzuki leaned back slightly against it and let his gaze drift over to the dancing clouds of butterflies that seemed to be congregating nearby. There was something about the fluttering purple wings that made him uncomfortable, threatened to bring out dark memories best left alone and so he turned away to stare up at the sky.

"In certain parts of Europe, it's said that butterflies are the souls of those unable to enter paradise. Yet despite that, they are seen as a good omen when seen by someone close to death; a guarantee that the person in question will be going to a place where happiness can be found." Tenebrae's sudden voice made Tsuzuki start slightly, having had no warning of the man's approach. Of course, that had probably been exactly what the pale haired gaijin had had in mind. The shinigami glared at the newcomer as Tenebrae seated himself on the bench beside Tsuzuki, apparently unconcerned with the lack of a warm welcome. Studying the gaijin with a look that was only half a step down from a full-blown glare, Tsuzuki took care to keep his voice perfectly neutral. "I've been a shinigami for longer than most and yet, in all that time, I've never heard anything about requiring outside help from 'freelance observers'."

Tenebrae smiled faintly. "However long you may feel you have spent as a shinigami, Tsuzuki-san, it is still infinitesimal in comparison to the existence of your bureau. And while the current situation is unusual, regrettably it is no precedent."

"You seem to know far more about this investigation than we do," Tsuzuki observed. "But you've still to give us any useful information. Or tell us why this particular case merited your attention."

There was a long pause as Tenebrae stretched his head back, allowing the rays of the sun to fall upon the porcelain skin. "Like you, I am bound by rules, Tsuzuki-san. And yet I am somewhat known for disregarding the rules at times. It all comes down to a matter of priorities, I suppose. And the one thing I hold more important than obedience and adherence to rules not of my making is equality. Everything requires suitable opposition. That is why I am here." Tenebrae fell silent again and spoke just as Tsuzuki was about to resume questioning.

"However I am here now because of my own sense of equality, not the orders of others. I am somewhat notorious for my independence of mind, hence my freelance status. What is occurring now in Kyoto is something that needs my attention. Or perhaps merely something that I feel I need to be involved in. In the end, there's little difference in the two positions."

Tsuzuki glared at the man. "So you do know what demon we're dealing with. Why not simply tell us?"

"Because, Tsuzuki-san, the only demons here are the ones hidden within the psyche. What you are facing here is something both simpler and far more dangerous than a mere demon. Simpler in nature and yet far harder to combat and defeat. A mere demon would not have merited your involvement."

Tsuzuki leaned forward, a threatening aura virtually rolling off him. "And just why am I here?"

Tenebrae turned to regard the man beside him for the first time since sitting down. "Because, aside from myself, you're the only other agent who has previously encountered what we are dealing with."

_/People, oh you people_

_You people, here I am_

_Take me, keep me, claim me now_

_Punish me, I'll smile somehow_

_Yeah, I stay, I'll never look back_

_I know how it feels when red turns to black/_

'Shadows' taken from the Bandits soundtrack.


End file.
